Home Is Wherever I'm With You
by elizabethj88
Summary: The reader finds comfort in Sam whenever she has nightmares. Little does she knows, he finds just as much comfort in it as she does.


The thing about living with the Winchesters was that you were never really alone. Although the 100 year old bunker was huge, the boys tended to keep close to you a majority of the time. You were a new hunter and so you chalked it up to them just being protective. It didn't bother you, it was the first time in your entire life that you'd felt safe. Before the Winchesters had saved you from what turned out to be a vengeful spirit, you'd needed saving for a completely different reason. But that was before, and now they were teaching you how to fight, how to shoot guns, how to convince people to tell you what you wanted to hear. And if you were in the kitchen? Dean was there, stealing bits and pieces when he thought you weren't looking. In the library? Sam was there, doing research with you or teaching you Latin. In your room? Sam and Dean were both there, watching Netflix or playing video games. It wasn't always like that though; sometimes they went on hunts and you stayed at the bunker to do research and run point from there. Those times were nice, but you were always excited for them to come home. Especially when the nightmares came.

The nightmares weren't always about the horrors you faced or the things you had to do while hunting. Of course, that was always there, but sometimes they were almost worse than that. Visions of broken bones, and bruises, and lies told to nurses in emergency rooms. The sound of footsteps thundering down the halls only to find you cowering in a closet or behind the bed. Every time, you'd wake yourself up yelling, fighting with an invisible attacker, soaked in sweat. You never mentioned it and luckily it had never come up during a hunt so it was your little secret. Well, it had been until one night when the nightmares were worse than normal. The younger Winchester had been walking past your room when you let out a bloodcurdling scream. He had rushed in to check on you, but upon discovering that it was just a dream, he had gently tried to wake you up. Unfortunately for him, he didn't know that your normal reaction to waking up from one of these nightmares was to fight back and you had immediately punched him in the jaw. As you opened your bleary eyes, you saw Sam looking at you with a mixture of surprise, amusement, and pain as he rubbed a hand across his jaw.

"You've got a nice right hook, Y/N," he said as he looked at you with concern. "Are you okay?" You nodded shakily.

"Yea…I'm fine. I'm so sorry, is your jaw okay?" Sam had just smiled and nodded. That was the nice thing about Sam, he was always patient and kind.

"Yea, nothing that's not happened before." He put a large hand on your knee and tilted his head. "You sure you're okay?" You nodded again, still a little disoriented from your nightmare although it had started to fade. He stood and walked towards the door, and for a moment you almost let him go. But you knew the truth of what would happen: either you fell asleep and the cycle started over or you'd not fall back to sleep and just lay there thinking about it.

"Sam?" He stopped with his hand on the knob and looked at you. "Do you…umm…do you mind staying?" He smiled again and crossed the space in two strides.

"Not at all, kiddo. Wanna watch some Netflix?" He settled in next to you on the bed, his long legs nearly reaching the end. Without saying a word, he pulled you in tight to his side, making sure that you had a comfortable place to rest your head on his chest. You don't remember much about what you watched because for the first time since you could remember, you had fallen asleep almost immediately, lulled to sleep by the sound of his breathing and it had been the best sleep you'd ever had.

Since that night, it had become a habit. It wasn't every night, but sometimes he'd stop by and check on you before the dreams even started and just stayed. Most times, though, you'd walk sleepily to his room and slip in silently. He always seemed to sense you though, and as soon as you'd get to the bed he would lift the covers, wait for you to crawl in, and tuck you into his side. Some nights he would still be awake because of his own demons and would be sitting up in bed reading. Those nights you both knew that sleep wouldn't be an option so sometimes you talked, he was the only person that knew anything about your past, and sometimes he'd pick out a book for you and you'd sit in silence reading, nestled against his giant frame. As far as you knew, Dean didn't know about these late night rendezvous and if he did, he never said anything. It didn't matter to you if he knew or not, but it felt nice to have something that only you and Sam knew about. And so it went, for weeks. You'd never thought much of it, except one day while sitting in the library you had looked up, Dean had said something amusing and Sam had laughed, one of those rare belly laughs, and you had been lucky enough to catch what that looked like. He'd tossed his head back and his hazel eyes had flashed more blue than green in the light of the table lamp. You realized for the first time just how perfect his teeth were, and how much his dimples showed. His laugh was deep, more of a rumble, and you suddenly found yourself wondering what it would feel like to feel that while you were against him. He had looked at you then, and when you realized you were still staring, you had smiled and went back to reading your book, hoping he didn't see the blush that crept across your cheeks. After that, it seemed like you noticed every single thing. How he leaned on the counter, so close you were almost touching, while you cooked. The smell of his shampoo as soon as he got out of the shower and he happened to sit next to you on the couch for movie night. The little strand of hair that, no matter how long his hair was or how he cut it, managed to always get in his face. The way he moved while you trained, so graceful and quiet for someone his size, and how gentle he was. You'd known these things before, you knew more about the Winchesters than anyone, but now…it was different. Now, you couldn't stop noticing it. Of course, you would never mention it to Sam, this life was hard enough as it was and it wasn't worth making something as wonderful as you had awkward. Then there were the other girls. Although Dean was normally the one to pick up girls at the bars you frequented from time to time, Sam also disappeared on occasion with a girl on his arm. Not that you were all that innocent either, but you began to notice that it bothered you more and more. You realized that even though you knew he undoubtedly loved you in his own way, it was never going to be the same as you felt. As time went on, you just kind of shoved it down, because even though it almost physically hurt to be near him and not have him know, he was your light in the dark.

Until tonight. Or this morning, everything that's transpired is kind of a blur, a dream you're afraid to wake up from. Sam and Dean had gone on a hunt, and since it was supposed to be a simple thing (so much so you didn't even remember what they were doing) they had decided you should stay home and rest up. Normally you would have fought them tooth and nail, you hated being left alone almost as much as when they treated you like a kid, but the last hunt had been exhausting. The idea of laying around doing nothing sounded incredibly appealing, so you had finally agreed it was probably better that you stayed home. Their day long hunt turned into two, then three. Both Sam and Dean kept you informed and you'd even done a little research for them, but by the fourth day you had begun to worry. They'd stopped texting and neither of them had called. You called Garth, and he hadn't heard anything either. By the time you had called Sam's phone for the tenth time, you received a single text message from Sam.

"On our way home. It'll be late." And that was it. You breathed a sigh of relief. At least they were alive. So you stayed awake, and waited for them. Or at least tried to. You weren't sure when you fell asleep, but you suddenly woke when you heard your door creak open. You bolted upright and stopped short when you saw Sam standing in the doorway, his head down and the hair hiding his face.

"Sam?" He glanced up at you, and the look on his face nearly broke your heart. He stood there and stared, almost as if he was asking permission to come to you, so you nodded. He crossed the space quickly and practically fell into your lap. He was so tall that even kneeling on the ground like he was, his head was still level with your shoulder, so he rested it there. "Sam, are you okay?" He shook his head, and you could swear that you felt a tear fall on your shoulder. "Do you…do you want to talk about it?" Again, an almost imperceptible head shake. You carded your hand through his long, chestnut hair, and pulled him in closer. He wrapped his arms around your waist and it felt like he was afraid to let go. You stayed like that for awhile while he held onto you. Finally, he looked up, his eyes dark and wet with sorrow, and you pushed the hair from his face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss the worry lines between his brow, take his sorrow` and carry it for him, but nothing you could do or say would ever be enough. Sam's large, calloused hand came up to lay on top of yours and his eyes slid shut.

"Y/N, thank you." It was so quiet you almost didn't hear him.

"For what?" He opened his eyes and stared into your Y/E/C ones, and tilted his head in confusion.

"For this…for being here." A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth and you sighed.

"I don't know about that. You've always been better at this kind of thing than I am." Sam pulled himself from the floor and sat on the bed.

"Y/N, you've done just as much for me as I have for you. All these nights…all these times that I've come in here or you've come to my room…it wasn't just for you. I…I needed it too." He looked at you then, and gave you that look, the look you'd only ever seen when he was fighting with Dean. His hazel eyes shimmered in the low light of the bedside table lamp and his lip just barely trembled. "Don't you ever say you haven't helped us. You've saved us. You've saved me." He leaned in close, his lips just barely grazing yours, and sighed. You were frozen, unsure of what to do or where to move. Luckily, Sam had decided for you. He closed the gap between the two of you, and you felt his soft lips gently pressing against yours. The two of you stayed that way for a moment and Sam finally pulled back to look at you. "That's why I came in here…I needed to…" He stopped for a moment and sighed again. You had never seen Sam so lost for words. He locked his eyes with yours and took a deep breath. "I needed to see you. When I see you…when I look at you…I'm home. I know that I'm right where I need to be, that I'm safe and you are too. I just…I needed to remind myself that I was home." You stared at him, your eyes wide, unsure of how to respond. He looked at you expectantly and you could see the worry still etched in his face, especially now after his unexpected confession. You leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

"Welcome home." You tucked yourself into his side, your arms wrapped around his waist, and you felt him sigh in relief. A few quiet moments passed and then you heard him clear his throat.

"Is it….would it be okay if I stayed with you tonight?" You smiled up at him, and it was all the answer he needed. The two of you crawled into bed, his large frame wrapped around yours, and you understood what he meant about feeling like being home.


End file.
